


Immo

by MirandaTam



Series: Genderqueer peredhel siblings [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Bigender, Bigender Character, Crossdressing, Gen, Genderqueer, Genderqueer Character, In that Arwen is 70, Kid Fic, Rivendell, Self-Discovery, Which is like 14 in elf years, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandaTam/pseuds/MirandaTam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bigender Arwen, growing up in Rivendell.</p>
<p>
  <i>(The twins exchange exasperated looks, but don’t press the point. Arwen grins to herself and raises her sword.)</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immo

Let’s start with Arwen.

 

When Arwen turns 70, she starts sneaking out to the practice courts and trying to learn how to wield a sword; it only takes Elladan and Elrohir a few months to catch on.

“Your stance is  _terrible_ ,” Elrohir says.

“Then tell me how to fix it,” Arwen snaps.

The twins glance at each other. “Okay,” they say as one.

“But,” Elladan says, “You can’t fight in dresses.”

The next time Arwen sneaks out, she does it wearing some of the twins’ old clothes. She does her hair in a tight braid down her back, the way she’s seen some of the warriors do.

“You know that you don’t have to do your hair back that way,” Elrohir points out.

“We don’t,” Elladan continues, “And we can fight just fine.”

“So?” Arwen retorts. “I heard from Lindir that you spent  _months_  learning how to keep your hair out of your face in a fight. Why would I bother when I can just braid it back like Erestor?”

The twins exchange exasperated looks, but don’t press the point. Arwen grins to herself and raises her sword.

 

The lessons continue, not nightly but at least weekly; Arwen has less experience than Elladan and Elrohir, but she’s improving steadily.

“One day,” she says, “I’m going to be a famous warrior, and kill orcs!”

“Look,” Elladan says, “Arwen, that’s not really...” he sighs, and glances at Elrohir for backup.

“Girls aren’t really... supposed to be heroes,” Elrohir says awkwardly.

Arwen glares at them. “Then I’ll be the first!”

“Or,” Elladan says slowly, “You can be an, uh, a mighty sorceress?”

“Like Grandmother,” Elrohir adds.

“And Mother,” Elladan continues. “And–”

“And I’m going to stab you if you keep listing people,” Arwen says flatly. “I’m going to be a hero, and that’s that! Separating people just because they happen to be born with different parts is... is stupid! And you’re stupid!”

Elrohir sighs. “Look,” he says. “Arwen–”

That’s as far as he gets, because he touches her shoulder and she blasts him back five feet.

Both of the twins stare at her as she drops her sword and runs away.

 

Arwen hides in a tree (so much easier to climb without skirts) and thinks about her life. She  _liked_  being a girl; liked dressing up in skirts that she could spin around in, liked learning magic from her parents beyond the basics that Elladan and Elrohir got, liked all the things that girls were supposed to like.

But she also liked the freedom of trousers, liked learning how to swordfight,  _loved_  the way that she felt different, somehow, in boy’s clothes - more daring, not as worried about what Elladan and Elrohir would think if Arwen messed up.

“Arwen,” Elrohir calls out, and she jumps. “Arwen, look, I’m sorry.”

“We shouldn’t have said all that stuff about girls,” Elladan adds.

“That was really nice, the way you blasted me back, though,” Elrohir says. “Do you think you could show me–”

“But,” Elladan interrupts his twin. “The sun’s about to rise and we need to get you back to your room and all girlie’d up before anyone notices or we’re all going to be in  _major_  trouble.”

Arwen notices, rather suddenly, that it’s getting lighter. She swears.

“Harsh language,” Elladan observes. “Do you want a hand down?”

Arwen swings down from the tree to land squarely on her feet in front of the twins.

“Nice,” Elrohir says. “This idiot couldn’t do it that fast.”

“Shut up and hurry up,” Elladan retorts. “It’s almost sunrise, people will be waking up!”

As one, they turn and run for home. The pathways are still deserted; the only ones that could possibly be up are–

“Footsteps,” Elrohir says faintly.

“Erestor’s,” Arwen says.

“Hide,” Elladan hisses, and moves to push Arwen behind a bush.

“Wait, what? No!” Arwen snaps, and dodges.

They push back and forth, as Erestor’s footsteps get nearer and nearer until he turns a corner and sees them.

“Elladan, Elrohir,” he acknowledges, giving them no more than a cursory glance as he walks down the path.

They wait until he’s out of sight before letting out the breath that they’d been holding.

And then they turn and look at Elrohir, who had ended up behind the bush.

“We’re lucky Arwen can pass for a boy,” he says. “Actually...” he tilts his head, looking at her more closely. “You could pass for one of  _us_.”

Arwen grins.

 

Over the next few years, she carefully - very carefully - begins to experiment. She likes being a girl; she - he? - also likes being a boy. She watches, seeing the way boys walk and gesture and move; he practices alone in his room, or at night on the practice courts when the twins aren’t looking too carefully. Figuring out how to safely bind her breasts is hard; bandages give him bruises, and he can feel them constricting his ribs. Her normal women’s clothes leave them too loose, or in some cases emphasize them; the best she can do is wear loose shirts, the bra she wears for archery, and a slight glamour to draw attention away from his chest.

And then, on a cool day at the end of autumn when nobody will comment on a scarf over her neck camouflaging his chest, he does his hair loose like Elrohir and goes to the market in broad daylight.

It’s amazing - both how it feels, walking around as a boy, and how nobody notices it. Lindir asks him about a ballad he’d been thinking of composing - “Elladan - Elrohir? Elrohir! What do you think of this rhyme scheme?” - and no small number of people glance over and sigh, muttering about trouble being afoot when one of the twins was without the other.

“ _Brother_  dearest,” he hears, and turns around very slowly, not panicking, not one bit.

It’s Elrohir, but his hair done like Elladan’s. “You forgot to mention you were coming here today,” Elrohir continues. “Come on, I found something  _interesting_. You’ll want to see it.”

Arwen mentally takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, reminds herself who he’s being right now, and faces Elrohir. “Really, brother dearest?” he says, mimicking Elrohir’s posture and tone. “Lead on, then.”

Elrohir takes him down a shortcut to their home. Arwen notices how Elrohir notices that nobody can tell they’re not Elrohir and Elladan; Elrohir notices how easily Arwen slips into becoming one of the twins, picking up on cues that nobody else notices.

“So,” Elrohir says when they’re back in the safety of Arwen’s rooms, with Elladan sitting on her bed, glaring at Arwen. “That was stupid.”

“Nothing bad happened,” Arwen points out, undoing his hairstyle and redoing it in his customary braid.

“But it could have,” Elladan says. “I could have not noticed you sneaking out. Elrohir and I could have been at the market together.” he pauses. “ _Father_  could have been there.”

All three of them shudder at the thought. Elrond knows  _everything_. Even their mother can’t tell which twin is which when they’re being purposefully confusing. Their father  _always_  knows which twin is which.

“I’ll be more careful in the future,” Arwen promises.

“In the - Arwen, you can’t do this in the future,” Elrohir says. 

“Those clothes are only so you can learn swordfighting,” Elladan continues.

“Not so you can dress up and–” Elrohir pauses and exchanges a glance at Elladan.

“Unless you, ah,” Elladan says hesitantly. “Unless you’re athröa?”

Arwen blinks. “Athröa?” she asks.

“You know,” Elrohir says. “Born in the wrong body?”

Arwen looks at the twins blankly.

“Look,” Elladan says. “Some elves are born as boy elves, but in their fëa know that they’re actually girls, and... the same the other way around.”

“Oh,” Arwen says, and thinks for a moment. “No,” he finally decides, “Not quite.”

“Not quite?” Elrohir asks, perking up a bit. “How so?”

“I’m both,” Arwen says simply. “I like being a boy. I like being a girl. So I’m both.”

The twins stare at her in silence for a long moment.

Then Elrohir shrugs. “That seems reasonable.”

Elladan glances at his twin and sighs. “All right, why not.”

“Although...” Elrohir says slowly.

“What,” Arwen asks warily.

The twins both grin. “You’re going to need a new name,” they chorus.

“Your name literally means ‘Noble Maiden,’” Elladan says.

“I don’t  _mind_  being a girl,” Arwen points out.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to have another option, just in case?” Elrohir reasons.

“It’s sounding dangerously like you’re about to make a major life decision for me,” Arwen says.

The twins look at her, wide eyes and innocent faces; he sighs. “All right. What have you come up with?”

“Arwen by day...” Elladan says.

“And by night,” Elrohir continues. “ _Elarod_.”

“Elarod,” she repeats.  _Elarod_ , he thinks.

“I like it,” Arwen - Elarod - decides.

The twins grin at her. “Excellent,” they say together.

“Now,” Elladan says. “As your introduction into the  _highly_  exclusive guild of the Sons of Elrond...”

“You,” Elrohir continues. “Are going to help us pull the  _best prank ever_.”

Arwen/Elarod grins.

Rivendell isn’t going to know what hit it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I started out planning to talk about this for a few paragraphs and ended up with a whole drabble. Oh well. Originally posted to my tumblr [here](http://mirandatam.tumblr.com/post/120236834532/talk-about-genderqueer-peredhel-siblings).
> 
>  
> 
> "Immo" is the quenya word for "self."
> 
> "Athröa" is a word of my own devising, coming from the sindarin "athra-" meaing "across" and "hröa," which I believe refers to an elf's body, while "fëa" refers to the elf's spirit or essence.
> 
> Next one will follow Elrohir.


End file.
